Neville's Story
by cmwestbroo
Summary: Just a short story from Neville's Point of View. (I always felt sorry for him in the book)


The wind was whipping through his hair and ruffled his robes , he felt as free as a bird __

The wind was whipping through his hair and ruffled his robes , he felt as free as a bird. He turned his head to his left and saw it, the golden snitch! He banked hard on his Firebolt and kicked his heels up and lay as flat as he could to get to the snitch faster than that arrogant twit, Draco Malfoy. He reached his hand out and just barely felt his fingers touch the fluttering wings of the snitch…

"NEVILLE!!"

Neville Longbottom sat up straight in bed and looked around with a flustered look on his face. His grandmother was standing at the foot of his bed with her hands on her hips and literally just fuming. 

"Neville Longbottom, get your lazy bones out of that bed right now and get yourself dressed and downstairs to breakfast within the next ten minutes or we will be late!" 

Neville lowered his eyes and nodded his head.

"Yes, Gran. Sorry I overslept Gran."

Neville felt like kicking himself. 

*_Arghh.. How could I have overslept today of all days?*_

He was still half asleep as he stumbled out of bed and started undressing. He slowly pulled on his shirt and pants and tied his shoes as slow as he possibly could've. He hated today. He hated the third Tuesday of every month. Finally dressed he went downstairs to grab a bite for breakfast. His gran looked at him over her glasses as she read the Daily Prophet and drank her morning tea. He poured himself some milk and buttered a muffin. He started remembering his dream that was interrupted. He hated that dream. He never seemed to manage to grab the snitch before he woke up. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how fast he flew or what kind of broom he was riding, he never fully grabbed the golden snitch. He sighed heavily. He knew in real life he was hopeless on the Quidditch field and the only chance he had to shine would be in his dreams. It just seemed that even in his dreams he could never manage to beat Draco and grab the snitch. He looked at his hands, if he closed his eyes he could almost feel the beating of the snitch's wings against his palms. He opened his eyes and realized that his grandmother was staring at him with a worried look on her face. He turned as red as a beet. 

"What's wrong with your hands, you haven't gone and spilled some newt's eyes on yourself have you?" His gran narrowed her eyes and glared at him. She hated for him to mess with the potions in her cabinet. He had a habit of getting everything backwards and causing trouble. 

Neville didn't blame her for acting this way. Even he had to admit he was a bit of a screw-up. He just seemed to get so nervous he couldn't do anything right. Especially potions. He felt as though Professor Snape was glaring at him right now instead of his gran. 

"No Gran, I was just thinking…." He was trying to be vague so that she would just drop it before he had to tell her about his dream. He lucked out today, her mind was obviously preoccupied with other matters. 

" Well if you're done eating get your coat and we'll be off. I want to stop by Celestra's Closet in London and pick up a new handbag while we're out today." 

She stood up and went to the front door and waited for him to get his coat. As she waited she saw the official sleek black Ministry of Magic sedan pull into the drive. The driver got out and stood by the back door and waited for her and Neville. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Neville looked out the window as the car jumped into impossible small spaces in the London muggle traffic. He would have given anything not to be in this car today. He'd rather be in a room filled with Snapes rather than be here. He lost track of time as the driver drove and his grandmother sat stiffly with her eyes facing straight ahead in the car as she always did. Sooner than he would have liked they pulled into a space in front of the Leaky Cauldron. The driver opened the door for them and they got out and went through the pub to Diagon Alley on the other side. His gran marched straight to Celestra's Closet as though she were on a mission instead of purse shopping. He half ran to keep up with her. 

"Hey Gran, can I just wait outside? I promise I won't touch anything. I just want to look around a bit."

Neville held his breath and waited for the answer. He could never tell what she might say, sometimes she was overprotective and other times she was just plain strict. She mulled the idea in her mind for a moment before answering.

"Stay where I can see you from the window and don't break anything." She turned and went inside the shop. 

Neville let his breath out in relief. He looked around at his sudden freedom. It was too early for any fellow Hogwarts students to be shopping for school supplies. The alley was filled mostly with older people, a few hags and a couple of Gringott's goblins on their lunch break. As he looked around eagerly he noticed the sleek Firebolt, just like the one in his dreams, still being displayed at the Quidditch supplies shop. He hurried over to it and pressed his small face up against the glass to get a better look. It was beautiful. Every last straw was perfectly balanced and trimmed to the perfect length. The handle was so polished his could almost see his reflection in the shine. His eyes glazed over he imagined himself on the broom flying through the air as far away from here as possible. 

He woke up out of his stupor at his gran's insistent tapping on his shoulder. 

"Come along Neville, it's time to go." 

"Huh? Oh….yes, gran."

Neville couldn't help but notice his gran's new purse. It was the ugliest thing he had ever seen. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. It was a bright cobalt blue dragon's hide purse with a parrot beak clasp. The hinges on the side were an awful gold color with a griffin design on side. Neville snickered at how well it went with her vulture hat. He couldn't wait to face another boggart and imagine Snape with his grandmother's new purse! He had to clap both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing as he followed his grandmother back out to the waiting car. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neville stared as he always did. The looming gray stone towers on either side looking like a cold impenetrable fortress. The gate swung slowly to one side to allow the car to pass through. As he got out of the car in front of the building he looked up at the 20 foot tall cast iron doors. He remembered his uncle explaining the doors had to be thicker than cauldron bottoms to help keep the magic inside the walls. He didn't know if it was true or not, but the doors were the last thing on his mind when they came here. 

He followed his gran down the long hallways and up several flights of stairs. She was several feet ahead mumbling to the old man that was showing her the way to the room. They always kept their voices low so that he couldn't hear them discussing things of an unpleasant nature. The closer they got to their destination, the slower Neville began to walk. His eyebrows furrowed together as he held back the tears that wanted to fall, and he had to bite his lip until he tasted blood to keep his lip from trembling. 

Finally, they came to the door. It was a heavy oak door with several large carvings, really it was quite a magnificent door. The caretaker took a set of keys from his pocket and he fumbled with the lock. Neville's body shook as the door slowly creaked open. He looked past his gran and into the room. His ears registered their presence before his eyes did. He could hear the gutteral moaning and sudden loud shouts coming from the corners of the room. He followed his gran into the room as the caretaker stepped to one side and waited politely outside the room. Neville looked at his parents. This was the only way he had ever known them. Chained to the walls like animals. Moaning day and night. Only once or twice had they had a lucid moment while he was there. He couldn't help it, he felt a tear fall down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily before his gran could see it. 

He watched as his gran spoke to her son quietly. She was filling him in on the latest family news and excluded any mention of Lord Voldemort's supposed return. She had made the mistake once of mentioning Voldemort's name in front of them and it had set both Neville's parents off into a screaming gurgling frenzy in which the chains had been stretched to their limit. It had scared Neville so badly that he had begged to skip the visits after that. His gran went from one parent to the other telling them all about the goings on of their neighbors and the boring details of day to day life in the Longbottom household. When she was through she turned to Neville and gave him a pointed look indicating that it was his turn.

He went to his father and mumbled hello. His father babbled on about ivy juice, slugs and bat blood. His eyes were rolling around the room wildly. He didn't know where he was or who he was, let alone recognize his own son. Neville stared desperately at his father wishing he would just snap out of it. But as always, it was useless to wish. He moved to the other side of the room to visit the mother he never knew. She was slumped against the wall with her head hanging down on her chest. He mumbled hello. She looked up at his voice and smiled at him. Neville's eyes went as big as saucers as his heart started beating wildly. 

!!!She recognized him!!!

His heart felt like it was going to explode! 

"Mum…."

But his mother cut him off.

"Oh good, I'm glad you're here, Shayra. You can help me make the itching potion and we'll pour it into Sirius's pumpkin juice at lunch. That'll teach him to………"

Neville's eyes froze as he realized his mother was re-living some obscure moment long ago when she had been in school. He blinked back the tears furiously as he mumbled goodbye and left the room. He balled his hands into tight fists as they left the building got into the car and drove back home. Neither he or his gran spoke during the ride back. She seemed to have sensed what had happened and was content to leave him alone about it. Neville ran inside the house as his grandmother set the time with the driver for the next month to go visit his parents. 

Later that night before he fell asleep, Neville remembered the joy he felt for the few seconds when he thought his mother remembered him. He wished he could feel that for real one day. Until then he had to endure these horrible visits to the asylum where they were kept like prisoners. Every time he went to visit them it strengthened his resolve to do everything he could to make Voldemort pay for he did to his parents. He fell asleep with a determined look upon his face.

***

__

He could feel the wings beating helplessly in his hands as he held the golden snitch high above his hand in a victory lap around the field before landing and celebrating Gryffindors triumph over the Slytherins……………….


End file.
